


Coffee

by confused_jensen



Series: Wincest Ficlets [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Fluff, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confused_jensen/pseuds/confused_jensen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a warm presence on his skin and he snapped out of his thoughts to see Dean’s hand resting over his, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking the back of his palm. It sent a shiver down Sam’s spine, and he could decide whether or not it was a good one or bad.</p><p>They’d become so settled into their old patterns lately that Sam almost forgot the reason he ran off to Stanford anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this was reposted from my tumblr and was not stolen. Happy reading! :)

Sam never liked the taste of coffee.

No, he was more of a hot chocolate kind of person. When he and Dean would head out to some cheap restaurant for breakfast he would just sit in the booth nestling the hot cup between his hands and occasionally nibbling on his tofu bacon. Dean would just sit there guzzling down his coffee and two plates worth of breakfast meats that made Sam’s stomach turn just by the smell of it.

They would sit and search through multitudes of newspapers and websites for possible cases, while Dean mercilessly threw in jokes to Sam about eating ‘wussy food’. It made Sam want to roll his eyes at the situation they were in now.

“I just don’t like meat Dean,” Sam said with a unconcerned shrug. “It makes me feel queasy after I eat it, and coffee is just nasty.”

Dean tutted and shook his head in a disapproving manner. “Sammy, bro, fine. The meat thing, I can let that go, but coffee? That’s the refreshing black nectar that makes the world go round!”

Sam sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in the booth. “No, that’s what makes your world go round. I can’t help it if I don’t like it Dean. I’ve tried it a million times; it’s just bitter.” And Sam really had tried on multiple occasions. He’d tasted hot coffee with milk, creamer, sugar, cold coffee, all the mocha and frappucinos on the Earth. Hell, he’d even tried the mainstream Starbucks coffee pumped full of all the whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and caramel he could handle, but that bitter taste just remained.

“Nah, you just gotta keep trying it. Like beer, it’s an acquired taste.”

Sam scoffed and looked back at his laptop screen, trying to think of a way to explain his feelings on the mediocre drink to his brother.

Beer wasn’t the same as coffee. The only reason he’d taught himself to get over the taste was because there was an actual reward for it. He could blur his thoughts, loosen his tongue, or get completely shit-faced if he wanted to. There was no prize for drinking coffee. So it supposedly woke you up a little? So what, Sam found Dad’s merciless ice cold buckets of water and the painful thunk of a rifle landing on his body just as effective when he couldn’t wake up in the morning.

There was a warm presence on his skin and he snapped out of his thoughts to see Dean’s hand resting over his, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking the back of his palm. It sent a shiver down Sam’s spine, and he could decide whether or not it was a good one or bad.

They’d become so settled into their old patterns lately that Sam almost forgot the reason he ran off to Stanford anyway. But as much as he wanted to pretend that day had never happened, it was always going to be a fresh memory in his mind, much like an open wound.

He feels like he should be more upset about it now than he really is, but he can’t muster up the reason to. Even if Dean was attracted to him in that way it didn’t really matter. It was obvious to both of them that they were probably going to be together until they day they died.

“Sam?” Dean said tentatively, giving quick nervous glances towards their intertwined hands. “Look, I’m sorry I said what I did. It’s sick, I know it and… god Sammy, I wish things were different.” When his little brother didn’t reply after he spoke again he started to pull their hands away.

“No,” Sam replied firmly, grasping onto Dean’s wrist. “You’re right it would be easier if you didn’t love me like that. But…” he paused and licked his lips, thinking rapidly how to explain himself. “… I can’t bring myself to care. Things are the way they are and we’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

Sam watched Dean’s eyes fervently, checking for any sign that he was taking this the wrong way. When he found none, he kept going. He began to rub his thumb along the back of Dean’s hand much like his elder brother had done earlier, not missing the little hitch in Dean’s breath as he did so. “I’m just trying to say that I may not feel comfortable with the whole incesteous relationship thing now, but there’s no reason I can’t learn to.”

Dean’s eyes softened at that and he desperately looked around the diner, making sure no one was witnessing their small heart to heart. The hunter let out a small sigh of relief when he saw the waitress had retreated into the back kitchen, undoubtedly to take a break.

Sam watched patiently as Dean sat there worrying at his lip in that nervous habit of his. A few seconds later Dean stood and leaned slightly over the table, lightly pressing their lips together. It was chaste. Dean retreated quickly, not giving Sam the chance to respond, and the pressure was so soft it left Sam questioning whether or not it even happened.

Dean sat back down in the booth, the tips of his ears burning a bright red. He quickly grabbed his now lukewarm coffee and took a long sip from it, silently eyeing his little brother for any hints of disgust or shame in his features. Sam’s eyes if anything, shone brighter than they had before and Dean felt his heart flutter a little at the sight.

“Thank you,” he said, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “That’s really all I can ask for. Thank you Sammy.”

Sam nodded and licked his lips, pondering over the taste of coffee Dean had left there on the pink flesh. It was still bitter, yes, but there was a sweet aftertaste that he had never experienced before. With piqued interest he reached across the table, taking Dean’s coffee into his hands and drawing another sip. The result was the same, bitter yet sweet at the same time.

He looked up at Dean, noting the confused look in his eyes and smiled to reassure him. Yes, this relationship wasn’t exactly at the honeymoon phase, and Sam didn’t exactly find himself wanting to jump Dean, but the prospect of it wasn’t gut wrenching anymore.

They soon paid the bill and were walking out the diner’s doors by 9 o’clock. Sam felt a small stirring in his chest and stomach when Dean grasped his hand on the walk back to car. He soon found the feeling was very similar to when he had his first kiss with his crush in sixth grade. The thought made him want to chuckle. He was developing a crush on Dean Winchester.

Sam licked his lips repeated through the day, the drive to Indiana leaving him with plenty of time to do so. The taste of coffee was long gone, but the memory still brought a small smile to his face everything he thought about it. He glanced over at Dean, admiring the way he mindlessly sang along to the Motley Crue playing on the stereo and batted out the drumbeat on the old leather steering wheel. Sam felt his eyes drift down towards his brother’s lips. He still didn’t feel the burning desire to kiss and suckle the lips unto his, but the idea sent small butterflies of anticipation in his stomach.

Perhaps Dean was like coffee, and he would learn to love him more as time went on. A smile spread on his lips. Yes, that’s exactly what Dean was.


End file.
